


Of The Green Hill

by Kharnesh



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AC/DC - Freeform, Baby, Backstory, Bourbon - Freeform, Brandy - Freeform, Chorts, Coincidences, Cosmopolitan, Deception, Developing Friendships, Drunk Character, Drunk Driving, First Meetings, Friendship, Green Men, Gullible Greenberg, Highway to Hell, Not So Oblivious Finstock, Supernatural Greenberg, Wham!, wake me up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 12:43:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8328415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kharnesh/pseuds/Kharnesh
Summary: Bobby Finstock should really be focusing on his new job as a high school economics teacher, but the mossy monstrosity lumbering across his backyard is kind of distracting.





	

The first time Bobby Finstock saw it, he was sitting on his back porch polishing off a bottle of Old Crow. It just lumbered through his backyard. It was a hulking, humanoid mass of leaves and moss that smelled like some small, forest creature had gotten snared inside of its snarled torso and died. It walked from one end of his forested yard to the other, not even stopping to see Finstock’s gaping mouth, and then it was gone, lost in the trees.

Bobby was sure that the creature had only been a creation of his whiskey addled grey cells, so he went about his day and opened another bottle. This time Black Bottle. He would have went on with his life, popping bottles every morning and evening and eventually forgetting the odd sight, had he not been sitting on his porch again that night and seen the same creature amble through his back yard.

Bobby was convinced the thing was actually real this time around, so he called out to it. He had been trying to go for something cool and nonchalant like ‘Howdy, neighbor. How are you doing on this fine and starry night,’ but all he could manage with his blood alcohol level was something more along the lines of ‘Owny, goo dis tarry ‘ight?”

The creature stopped and turned its moldy moss face to look at Bobby. He waved at it, and it turned towards him fully in order to wave back. The moonlight hit its front then, and Bobby could see it cradling one of its arms close to its chest. Bobby pointed to it.

“Wot da?” What’s that?

The creature came up to the porch and leaned down, showing Bobby the small, sleeping child tucked into the crook of its arm.

“Baby,” it said. Its voice sounded like rustling leaves.

“Baby?” Bobby shook his head and poked his finger at the creature’s chest. “Yer baby?”

“Human baby!” it laughed. If its voice had sounded like rustled leaves, the creature’s laugh sounded like a creaking and groaning tree.

“Why yuh heb baby?” Why do you have a baby?

The creature gestured off into the woods. “Chort.”

Bobby groaned. He wasn’t that learned in the secrets of Beacon Hills, but he had lived there his entire life. He knew that if something went bump in the night, then some beastie with a lot of claws and teeth probably ran into a tree.

He had hoped he would be one of those lucky few people in town who had been taught the basics but would get to live their lives untouched by the otherness. He had hoped he would die a death that was alcohol related, not creature of the night related. As per usual, it didn’t look like the universe was taking his personal preferences into account.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Bobby felt like crying a little. There was no way to get out of this situation without digging himself a very large creature of the night grave.

“Stay here,” he ordered the creature. He tried to look very serious. “Stay.”

The thing sat down on the ground and watched as Bobby went inside his house. He went to his bedroom and pulled on a t-shirt that wasn’t stained, and then he tried to brush his teeth without tipping over, at which he was mildly successful. He shoved his bare feet into a pair of flip-flops and flip flopped his way back to the porch, praying the creature was still there.

It was, and it opened its maw in an ugly hole that Bobby really hoped meant it was smiling. He grimaced back at it.

“Hey, you,” he started. His head hurt from how much he was focusing on making coherent sentences. Bobby could guess that the thing was some sort of forest spirit, maybe a Spriggan or a Leshy, and a somewhat trusting one at that. He tried to think of a way to let the poor thing down kindly, but all that came out was, “You know Chorts eat babies, right?”

It had apparently not known this, as it made an obvious wind through the reeds kind of gasp before starting up a braking branch sob. It clutched the baby to its chest and rocked from side to side, distraught.

This probably wasn’t the first baby then, Bobby thought.

“Look, look, it’s fine,” he said, placatingly. Not really, but it could have been a lot worse. “Just, I don’t know, tell me where you got the kid, okay?”

It nodded, still sniffling. “Wolf.”

Bobby felt his stomach drop out through his asshole.

“Please, God almighty, tell me you mean you saved the kid from a bunch of starving wolves,” because, holy shit, that would have been so much easier to deal with than what Bobby was sure had actually happened.

It shook its head. “Man wolf.”

Bobby’s creature of the night related death had just been upgraded to death by creature of the night.

He smiled, a little hysterically, and said, “Alright, awesome. Let’s go drive out to the Hale property and accept our doom.” He gestured for the creature to follow and started toward the front of the house before turning back to ask, “Can you look a little less foresty?”

He blinked, and then there was a kid standing in the creature’s place. He looked like he could have been one of Bobby’s students at his new teaching gig. “Now get in the car.”

It seemed pretty happy to take orders. It sat patiently in the passenger’s seat as Bobby got the engine going and pulled out onto the road. It was way too trusting for his taste.

“I don’t usually drive while intoxicated, and neither should you, okay, kid?” The thing nodded assuredly. “I’m just making an exception ‘cuz we’re heading into the land that will most likely hold our decaying corpses for the rest of eternity.” The thing kept nodding at him. Its fingers were being sucked on by the little wolf pup, and it was giving her most of its attention.

“We’re gonna get torn apart ‘cuz you couldn’t tell that a bipedal pig demon was asking you to bring him babies so he could have baby back ribs for dinner.” Bobby shuddered at his own words.

The thing just kept nodding, not taking a single word he said in, so Bobby put on the radio and let Highway to Hell fill the silence as he drove.

 

Everyone in the Beacon Hills “in the know” club knew where the Hale House was. Even if they never had reason to go that deep into the preserve, they still knew. Bobby didn’t like that he knew where the house was nestled in the forest, and he didn’t like that he was parked outside of it just then. There were shapes moving in the trees, and Bobby really didn’t like that he knew they were being watched.

The thing followed him out of the car and up to the front door. Bobby gulped audibly and knocked on the door. It opened to reveal Talia Hale. She wasn’t frowning, which Bobby took as a good sign, but she also wasn’t smiling. Her face was perfectly smooth and devoid of emotion.

“Good evening, Mrs. Hale. It’s so good to see you.” Bobby really hoped his breath didn’t smell too bad, but who was he kidding. They could probably smell the cosmopolitan he had snuck in between the Old Crow and Black Bottle. “We just dropped by because we found your-”

“Baby!” the thing cut in, all smiles and sucked on fingers.

“Yes, baby. This is your baby.”

Talia nodded. “That is my baby.”

No one said anything for a moment.

“Kid,” Bobby mock whispered, “give her the baby.”

The thing passed the baby to Talia very carefully, smiling all the while.

“Thank you for returning Cora, boys. That was very kind of you.” She almost smiled then, a small wrinkle formed in the ironed out planes of her face.

“Cora!” the thing sang happily. It held its arms out like it was expecting Talia to return the baby to his arms. When she didn’t, its smile dimmed some.

“May I ask how you two found her?” Talia asked. Bobby was all too aware of the wolf-like shapes that had started to emerge from the woods behind them. He could almost pretend they were just shadows and not bipedal wolves come to kill him.

The thing was all too happy to answer. “I’m a Green-” it started.

“-berg,” Bobby ended. “He’s a Greenberg. Very Jewish. Very human.”

Talia’s eyes creased. “That doesn’t really answer my question.”

“No, it doesn’t, does it?” Bobby’s hands were so sweaty, he was sure he could unstick a cow’s head from a fence with all the moisture. “Well, you see-”

“Chort.” Greenberg cut in again with his hands still outstretched.

“Yes, Chort, that.” Forget the cow; Bobby could power a water park with his hands. “There’s a chort in the woods!”

“A chort?” Talia was listening very attentively.

“A chort.” Bobby nodded. “There’s a chort, and Greenberg is most definitely not a gullible Green Man that was being manipulated into bringing said chort babies for dinner.”

Talia was quiet for a few moments, a pensive look on her face. She smiled a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, but Bobby took that as a sign that his life would be extending further than that night.

“Thank you, boys,” she said. “I think you two should head home now.”

Bobby grabbed Greenberg’s arm and walked backwards quickly. “Of course, you’re right. Have a good evening, Mrs. Hale. Lovely seeing you!”

They were in the car and peeling out of the preserve before Greenberg could utter another “Cora.” He did mope all the way back to Bobby’s place though. He kept his arms crooked like he was still holding the baby to his chest.

Bobby tried to shoo him off when they were in his backyard again, but Greenberg just stood there, making small smiles at him.

“Get outta here, Greenberg, and don’t come back!” Bobby tried White Fanging it and threw a bottle at him. Greenberg only moved out of its path, and his smile grew like they were playing a game.

Bottle after bottle was thrown, but he was still there when Bobby ran out of ammunition.

“God, fine,” Bobby threw his arms up, “just don’t be here in the morning.”

He fell asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

 

In the morning, Bobby made an effort not to have anything alcohol based for breakfast. He put on a button up shirt and picked up his empty briefcase. He had to look the part of an economics teacher if he wanted to keep the job.

When he glanced out his window on the way to the front door, he saw Greenberg swaying in the morning sunlight. There was dew covering his face, and his bare feet were burrowed in the soft ground.

Bobby grabbed a mushy apple off his kitchen counter and stepped onto the back porch.

“Kid,” he said, throwing the apple at Greenberg’s face. “Just don't be here when I get home.”

Greenberg caught the apple and smiled, taking a bite out of it. He closed his eyes and went back to swaying.

Bobby left for work, Wake Me Up by Wham! blaring on his car’s radio. He considered stopping by the supermarket after work to see if there were any discounts for expired produce. Only because he wanted to have something to throw at Greenberg if he was still there when he got home, of course.

Only that, of course.

**Author's Note:**

> Greenberg actually means "of the Green Hill/Mountain." The Green Men came to my mind, so I went about making the connection into a backstory of sorts.
> 
> Special thanks to my mother for being my beta for this piece.
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading!


End file.
